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I feel as if I am the only one. I stand, my feet planted in the sand, and look ahead of me; a vast ocean appears. It’s beautiful, yet that is not what my fixated being chooses to look on. I see death; I see the countless lives lost by drowning, I see how unexplored and unfriendly the panoramic nature of the ocean is. I fail to see beauty. 
Others stand alongside me, looking as if they enjoy warm grainy sand. All I can think about is how the sand was once a rock, how it once had a rough exterior, but was broken, shredded, and eroded into the soft grains we overlook today. Everyone I know seems to appreciate all aspects of life, thinking not of how things are created, but what they do for others. I seem to overthink, but more, much more than normal. 
The waves; they consume my every molecule. They wash down on me, drenching me, not only in cold water but my own thoughts. How can people love me if I don’t love myself? How do I seem to do everything for others for them to never give me anything in return? How can I discover the purpose of my life when I can’t even recognize why I’m here? How can I save myself when I don’t understand why I’m worthy enough to be saved? I sink, sink deeper in the water as my mask dissolves; my attempt of feigning ease is now shattered. I’m afraid; afraid that when the wave passes, people will see me for not who I truly am, but how I view myself as. Because I’m scared. 
When I talk, even to a friend or a family member, messing up one word or stuttering will result in me overthinking for days; what if they don’t like me anymore? What if they think I’m inarticulate? The feeling of messing up, whether in speaking, sports, school, overtakes the feeling of living-- like my anxiety is driving me towards perfection rather than letting me enjoy what life has to offer. I focus only on others and their needs, worrying how I will appear to them, completely ignoring how I feel and how I want; so, as the wave washes by, I wonder--
Am I the only one?
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